


Break A Leg

by panpinecone



Category: Return Of Sabata (1971)
Genre: Circus, M/M, Masturbation, Nipple Play, Rough Sex, Sex Work, Showing Off
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 20:06:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8547349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panpinecone/pseuds/panpinecone
Summary: Sabata prides himself on his ability to put on a good show. Today, he gets to put on two.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Contains casual use of the term 'circus freak'.

The day's performance had gotten him a customer.

 _Excellent_.

Sabata grinned as his client-to-be was pointed out. The man was by no means attractive, but he was wealthy and willing to part with his money, and that was all Sabata needed.

Of course, _quantity_ was preferable to _quality;_ A single wealthy client was just as good as many poor ones, and though Sabata loved money, he also prided himself on the multitude of customers he saw to. Very pleased customers, at that.

After a minute of watching his newest client mill about in the day's crowd, Sabata turned and left for his caravan.

Once inside, he took a few moments to prepare for his upcoming performance. He checked himself over to ascertain that he'd be ready to attend to his client's needs, then laid aside his hat and jacket, otherwise leaving his show clothes exactly as they were. In his experience, the combination of the frilly shirt and fitted waistcoat served to heighten his customers' enjoyment, and heightened enjoyment lead to heightened likelihood of a tip.

A knock at the caravan's door signaled his client's arrival, and he promptly answered it, amiable demeanor firmly in place.

From there, things proceeded much as they always did: He was usually asked to disrobe, with little to no pretense of subtlety, and once having done so, customers either requested to watch him pleasure himself or—more rarely—got straight to business, fucking him and leaving without a backwards glance.

Those never left tips.

Sabata was glad to find that this customer was of the former type.

Lying back on the bed and spreading his legs, he put on his second performance of the day, trailing fingers down his chest and taking time to play with his nipples. After idly circling the small nubs for a while, he gave them a few gentle brushes, then began rhythmically flicking them as he let a nearly perfected expression of ecstasy grace his features.

The man watching him slyly licked his lips, closely following the movement of his hands through heavy-lidded eyes.

Smiling softly at the success of his tried-and-true routine, Sabata abandoned his nipples and dragged his hands lower, running his fingers over himself at a steady pace. His other hand reached lower still, teasing his opening with a few gentle pushes.

His eyes darted down to the man's crotch, where he was satisfied to find the expected erection.

He continued his routine, one hand stroking and the other prodding, until his client seemed prone to start drooling if he carried on much longer. Easing a finger into himself, he slowly worked it in and out, watching the way the man's erection noticeably strained for freedom.

“Well? What are you waiting for?” he goaded, slipping in a second finger alongside the first. After all, the quicker the man's needs were dealt with, the sooner Sabata could prepare for any subsequent customers that may yet buy some time with him.

The man nearly jumped from his seat in his rush to rise to the challenge, shedding clothes with his gaze transfixed on what Sabata's fingers were doing all the while. As soon as he was fully naked, he scrambled onto the bed, yanking Sabata's hands away and replacing them with his own.

As if on cue, Sabata let out a well-practiced moan, arching slightly and pulling the man closer.

“You like that?”

“Mmm... Of course,” Sabata replied. “You sure know how to— _mmm_ —pleasure a man.”

A sharp bark of laughter left the man as he roughened the motion of his hands, eventually pulling one away to tug at Sabata's nipples. He gave them a couple of flicks before firmly taking one between his fingers and twisting it. Seeing the exaggerated reaction of pleasure it seemed to evoke, he laughed again. “You're a proper circus freak, aren't you?”

Sabata grinned. “I'm whatever you want me to be,” he answered.

The only reward his teasing garnered was the man abandoning his nipples in favor of stretching his legs further open, followed by the sensation of a cockhead smearing against him, on the verge of slipping in. Letting out another wanton groan, Sabata threw the man his most seductive look, silently begging to be fucked.

Evidently unable to resist, the man jerked his hips forward, sinking into Sabata all at once. They both let out twin moans of pleasure, though one could rightly be identified as less-than-genuine to the trained ear.

As luck would have it, Sabata's clients generally had enough on their plates to bother with determining the sincerity of his moans, and this particular customer simply opted to start plowing away at his heated insides, abandoning all pretense of seduction. Sabata couldn't really care less either way, instead letting himself lie back and relax, thoughts flitting back and forth across familiar subjects.

During his private performances, he most commonly found his mind drifting to memories of his mother. He was following in her footsteps, in his own way, so perhaps that was why she resurfaced so easily. On the other hand, he wasn't entirely sure she'd be proud of him. He didn't even have half as many customers as she'd had, and that was to say nothing of all his perceived shortcomings.

But no matter. He did what he could and played at the rest. That was as good as the real deal, provided one knew a thing or two about putting on a show.

His thoughts were interrupted by the man's thrusts into him becoming haphazard, climax clearly approaching. Sabata reached a hand down to rub at himself, knowing his own orgasm would help speed the man's along as well. His fingers furiously jerked back and forth as he felt closer and closer to the height of his pleasure.

“Are you going to come?” he asked, grinning up at the man grinding into him. “Fill me up. Fill me with your seed—”

Waves of pleasure suddenly washed over him and he arched off the bed, words dying in his throat as he uncontrollably twitched around the man's cock, milking it for every last drop. He distantly realized the man was ejaculating into him, but that didn't matter.

All that mattered was that he had yet another satisfied customer.

“How was that? The kind you'd expect from a circus?”

“...Alright for the price,” admitted the man, sitting up and sliding off the bed.

As he redressed, Sabata silently watched him while tactfully angling his thighs to afford himself some modesty— or at least make a firm return to the land of teasing. His technique worked just as he'd predicted, for as soon as the man finished dressing and glanced backwards, he paused and looked for all the world like he wanted an encore.

“Why don't you go ask if there's anyone waiting their turn after you,” suggested Sabata, nodding towards the door.

The man quickly turned on his heel, freezing with his fingers around the door's handle. As if gripped by a sudden impulse, he reached into his pocket and threw a few coins on the table. Accompanying the gesture with a curt tip of his hat, he hurried out of the caravan and clicked the door shut behind himself.

Sabata sat up and eyed the coins.

Not a bad tip at all.


End file.
